The search for beauty takes many different forms, from cosmetic surgery to working out to artistic endeavour. And as we age, says poet and novelist Mary O’Donnell, it’s is as much
about the mind as the body
Here’s a salutary story concerning a dear, older friend of mine who died last year. Nearly 30 years ago, she told her oatmeal-soap-and-sensible-britches relatives she was going to Lourdes for a few days and then on to Fatima – in other words a whirlwind tour of the great visionary sites of Europe – when in fact she was having a full cosmetic facelift in Dublin. However, it was her misfortune to find herself recovering from her op on the night of the Valentine’s Day Stardust inferno in one of the hospitals taking in the casualties. She felt ashamed, tasteless and trivial. There she was, willingly bandaged for the sake of beauty, while the burns unit was overflowing with people who would be in repair for deeply serious reasons for years.
It’s the kind of situation you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. For most people the reality check comes via that ambiguous little phrase “growing old gracefully”, sometimes uttered in response to those who get wrinkles filled, noses re-shaped, breasts lifted and tummies reduced. There are plenty of judges, but back in 1981 there were even more, which was why my friend had to be so secretive about the whole thing in the first place.
The truth is, there is no such thing as growing old gracefully and the hunt for lasting physical beauty runs parallel with the hunt for inner beauty and peace of mind. In fact, the two may be connected, because statistics reveal that
self-esteem rises significantly in the wake of cosmetic surgery. By the same token, those who find peace of mind through spirituality, therapy, or exercise often cease to think about their appearance because they are flowing with serotonin and endorphins and feel generally uplifted. But there are exceptions to everything, including limits to exercise: try as you might to outrun age this year, taken to excess you could keel over like Mr Sarkozy, in thrall as he is to the youthful Ms Bruni. Nor is pumping iron much use because you could end up à la Madonna, with nightmare fantasy appendages where your arms used to be.
On a more philosophical note, there’s being aware of your beautiful self, simply because it is spectacular. You don’t have to believe in God to grasp this. Think of it: here we are on planet Earth, so far as we know the solitary thinking species in this part of the universe, billions of us wondering who we are and where we are going. So just where are you going? Does it matter if you don’t quite know? The obvious thing for many people is to snip, nick, tuck, and diet while they work on the challenge of existence. If that’s your thing, go for it. After all, cosmetic surgery is not a modern phenomenon and during its evolution over the course of millennia, people were just as narcissistic as they are today. The ancient Hindus excelled at the removal of cataracts and unsightly skin-growths, while the ancient Egyptians performed reconstructions on lips, noses and ears.
YOU CAN READ THE REST OF THIS STORY IN THE FEBRUARY ISSUE OF THE GLOSS MAGAZINE, OUT NOW.
